


Idea of Fun

by Anonymous



Category: RoadTrip (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Where Brook drags Andy along for a fun time. (AU)
Relationships: Andy Fowler/Brooklyn Wyatt
Collections: anonymous





	Idea of Fun

"You really don't do anything but work, do you?" Brooklyn's voice is incredulous with a curious tint.

As much as Andy has been mysteriously endeared to this oft-grinning young naïve man, the sun is too bright and too hot as Brook trails behind him like a obnoxiously cute puppy.

"There was knitting club on Thursday nights, but that disbanded after there was a fist fight over stealing patterns, it was all very serious business." Andy's tongue is acid, but he can hear Brook chuckling behind him, and he continues to walk away from their hotel and down the sidewalk of the busy city to hide his smile. "What does it matter?"

"Because everyone should have fun." Brooklyn says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, the 'duh' tone softened with a grin Andy can tell is wide on his face. "I've decided, we are going to do something fun. It's better pacing around the hotel waiting for the phone to ring."

"Maybe I would prefer that to whatever half baked scheme you're currently concocting in your head," Andy spits out, a little more venom then perhaps necessary. But he knows that going out will probably means getting a black eye like the last time he was dragged out to social settings against his will (long story). And no matter what Brook's smile does to him, he knows that Jack Duff will come back in the picture and they will once again be the One True Couple. Which leave Andy as Once Again Alone (which he definitely does not mind one bit).

That's what he tells himself anyway. It gets a little harder to keep this mantra going when Brook pulls at his jacket sleeve, turning him around so that he can see that dimpled smile that shines like the sun. "Look! An ice cream stand!"

Andy suddenly finds himself composing a demanding prayer for that man upstairs he says he doesn't have patience for.

* * *

They're sitting on a park bench in the heat wave of the afternoon, surrounded by what seems like a swarming mass of children. This was definitely not Andy's idea, and he shoots a glare over at the ringleader of the day's 'fun' activities, who is eating his double scoop of rocky road with a pleased expression. A drip has already started from the bottom of the waffle cone, and every drip onto his jeans that Brook does not notice makes Andy twitch. Though he can't help but be a little more occupied with creamy and chocolate line dripping down from the corner of Brook's mouth.

"You have a little something." Andy gestures awkwardly to the spot on his own face, trying to show that he's more annoyed than... affected. He clears his throat as Brook wipes it away with a napkin, his eyes trained on the group of shrieking kids hopping past them playing lava monsters. "So, this is your big idea of fun? Sitting in the humidity watching kids play on dangerous metal playground equipment? I think you have the mistaken impression that because I foolishly told you my sob story last night in a fit of insanity that I secretly adore things like frolicking kittens and sparkly vampires."

"Like there's anything actually fun that you'd rather be doing," Brook tosses back at him, making a dismissive noise at him with a crooked grin.

"I'd rather be having a drink," Andy says in an undertone, resisting the urge to put his head in his hands, feeling a dull ache building behind his eyes. Brook stands, nodding towards the path back to the sidewalk with a raised eyebrow. "What now? Are we going to go ride a unicorn?" Brook laughs out loud, grabbing Andy's hand and tugging him up.

"No, Fovv, we're going to go find a bar." Andy is surprised enough by the interlaced fingers between them that he makes no argument, just follows Brook back to the street, his hand feels warm where the blonde's hand pulls him along, his face feels a notch warmer than usual as well. He tells himself that this means absolutely nothing. Hand holding does not mean 'your room or mine?' Though they're back to walking down the strip, and Brook's fingers are still entwined with his. Andy clears his throat, and Brook blushes and drops the contact. Now it's Andy's turn to raise an eyebrow.

Brook wheels around, looking for something to fill the awkward space with a flush still on his cheeks. "Look! That bar has a mechanical bull!"

Andy thinks that maybe he should have just kept holding his hand.


End file.
